


Fuckin’ Professionals

by mrpeachfruitpunch



Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Mr. Pink, Don’t do what they do, Hair Pulling, I Like Crime And Homosexuality Sue Me, M/M, Not Related To Canon In Any Way, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Service Top Mr. White, Switch Mr. Orange, Threesome, Unsafe Sex, Yes I Took The Heist From A Gta V Mission, its soft though, surprisingly tender, use condoms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:40:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrpeachfruitpunch/pseuds/mrpeachfruitpunch
Summary: Pink always felt like there was a missed connection between him and White.
Relationships: Mr. Orange/Mr. Pink/Mr. White
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Fuckin’ Professionals

Mr. Pink has always been the victim of subtle flirting. Sure, unsubtle flirting would make his life a lot harder, but it’d differentiate missed connections from what could have never been.

It’s not like he’s lonely, he thinks as he stares up at the motel ceiling, illuminated by the neon sign outside. Mr. Orange is curled up under his arm, buried in his neck. It’s the mystery of what happened those handful of nights in the mid-late 80’s. 

Walking out of one of Joe’s bars, White lights his cigarette. Pink blushes and looks away. He was pretty much skin and bones back then, clean shaven, and jumpy as hell.

“This your first time?” White asks casually, after taking a drag off of his own cigarette.

Pink chokes on his own drag, startled by the forwardness, he looks up at White panicked.

“On a heist, kid.” White laughs heartily, patting Pink’s back as he coughs the rest of the smoke out.

“Y-yeah, kinda, i-it’s the first time I’m in on a big thing like this.” Credit union up north, no guards, small town. Pink wishes there were jobs like that still up for grabs.

With a smile, White looks him up and down. “Don’t worry about it kid, it’ll be tough but I’ll keep ya safe.”

Something twists in Pink’s chest. Was it benign, or was White leading into something?

He was in the passenger’s seat of White’s car, radio playing low, cutting in and out of existence. This was courtesy backroads White insists on taking to get away from California traffic, going upstate.

“One more time, what will you be doing?” He said, firm but patient, glancing over at Mr. Pink.

“I’m outside the vault, standing guard while you get the cash.”

“Mr. Blue?” 

“Blue’s the… uh, the crowd control. Keeps everyone in line while the whole ordeal goes down.” 

“And what do we do once we get the money?” 

“Leave through the fire escape in the back, Blondie’s going to be in the back waiting.” 

White smiles in approval, patting Pink’s thigh in a...supportive (?) way. His hand rests there, lingers, for a moment. A female country singer cuts in through the radio static, and he pulls away. Pink was just confused at that moment as he is now.

He’s not possessive by any means, Orange seems to always find his way back into Pink’s bed even without the promise of sex. However, Pink was observant.

Pretty late tonight, at a bar, most of the other guys had left. Eddie and Blonde were somewhere talking alone. Leaving Pink, Orange, and White in a corner booth. The conversation wasn’t memorable, through the buzz of alcohol and haze of smoke. But then White brings his hand to Orange’s face and traces his jaw, stopping Orange mid sentence. 

He finishes what he was saying, no one making eye contact with the other two men at the table. 

Something presses down on the knot in Pink’s chest. A car’s headlights pass over the ceiling.

“What… was that?” Orange asks as they drive down the highway. 

Pink doesn’t have to ask what he means, and sighs. 

“I don’t know, White’s always been like this,” he doesn’t know how to elaborate further.

“Is he like, gay? Bi? What?” 

“Man, I couldn’t tell you. He gets touchy with me too, but he never does anything,” Pink shrugs, one hand on the steering wheel.

“The fuck?” Orange squints.

Pink shrugs again, “It’s not like I’d mind it y’know but he never, I don’t know, crosses the threshold of knowing for certain what his interests are.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Orange flicks his eyes over to Pink, who sputters.

“N-no, he’s a decent lookin’ guy, of course I wouldn't. Would you?” 

“Nah, he’s nice enough. I’ve had worse hookups.” 

The next day, White calls them up in Pink’s motel, asks if they wanna just drive around.

Orange is in his lap while he talks on the phone, leaning on his shoulder, lips brushing his neck.

They already have a plan formed.

Mr. Orange’s crop top really didn’t help the obvious, but Pink wasn’t going to complain.

As confident as he was leaving the motel room, he comes back with both of their hands on his ass.

Orange all but yanks Pink’s pants down once the door closes. He tries to turn around, ready to throw him onto the bed like so many previous nights. But, Orange pins his wrist between his shoulder blades. 

“Jackass…” Pink mutters, as Orange grinds against his ass.

Mr. Orange begins to say something, but instead lets out a jagged moan, pressed against Mr. Pink’s neck. Mr. White, who had just been observing until now, had stuck his hand down Orange’s pants and pressed slightly into his entrance.

“Dude, use lube,” he whines, barely audible and still pressed into Pink’s neck.

“Play nice.” White murmurs, removing his hand from Orange’s pants.

Orange lets go of Pink’s wrist, but moves his hand further south. 

“Lube’s in the top drawer,” he tells White, making brief eye contact.

Orange takes in the sight of Pink’s cock, his hand picking up speed as it moves up and down and precum beads at the tip. 

White watches them, strolling back lube in hand. He grabs Orange’s hip and grinds against him, forcing him onto Pink. They both moan lightly as they grind against each other. 

White pulls down Orange’s jeans and underwear together, undoing his fly and taking out his cock. Orange, bare against Pink, moves his hands to Pink’s hips.

White coats his cock generously with lube, then passes the bottle to Orange who does the same.

He takes no time getting inside of Orange, pulling his ass against his cock. It’s a chain reaction of moans as Orange’s dick slips into Pink, his moan being the loudest.

Mr. White sets the pace, not too fast, but little room for Orange to stall. His cock is forced deep into Mr. Pink as he’s fucked. He grips Pink’s hips hard enough to no doubt bruise tomorrow, leaning his head into the crook of his neck.

White moves slower, as he hits spots deeper and deeper in Mr. Orange, and subsequently Mr. Pink, creating a spiral of moans from the both.

“White, sub in for me?” Orange says in a deep yet soft voice, tracing Mr. Pink’s body as he pulls out.

Orange walks around Pink. White immediately takes his space and Pink grunts warmly, eyeing Orange.

He sinks to his knees, maintaining eye contact. He takes Pink’s tip into his mouth, hand moving up and down the shaft. Pink’s staccato, breathy moans move in rhythm with Orange, who’s taking more of him into his mouth. It’s like a night in the middle of summer, almost uncomfortably warm, he feels it throughout his body. Orange continues to work him, winding him up, as White moves in and out of Pink with a certain softness.

He can’t find a moment to come down, his hand barely placed in Orange’s hair as he takes in more and more of Pink. He looks back up at him, maintaining eye contact as he reaches the base. Pink moans louder, carding his fingers through Orange’s hair. It’s almost impossible to see, what with the mouth full of dick, but Pink knows Orange is smirking. 

White’s found the perfect angle to thrust into him, making Pink’s eyes roll back and him moan louder. He tugs on Orange’s hair, trying to ground himself. This elicits a deep moan from Orange, closing his eyes. Orange continues, languidly moving up and down Pink’s cock, digging his fingers into his thighs. White traces Pink’s chest, circling a nipple gently, one hand planted firm on Pink’s hip. 

White picks up speed gradually, almost in sync with Orange. Both adding tinder to the fire building in Pink’s abdomen. Grunting, bitten back and muffled moans fill the motel room. Pink’s screwed up to tight, ready to burst, twisting Orange’s hair - then he looks down. Those big doe eyes, hungrily focused on him, invisible smirk playing in his eyes. It’s like Mr. Orange yanked him into the deep end with that one look.

He comes, hot and in sudden waves and Orange takes it all in without a second thought. Before letting go, he moans softly and Pink notices him spill over in his hand. He watches quietly, still held by the hair, as White pulls Pink closer before pulling out.


End file.
